Full Moon Lust
by GetItOuttaMySystem
Summary: After Season Three, a girl with a secret needs Vincent's help. But will her arrival in the Tunnels mean danger for Vincent's people? VincentOC.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This story takes place after the third season of "Beauty and the Beast". Young Jacob is about 20 months old. I have not actually seen the second or third season yet, so I apologize if any of my information is outdated. I've had this story rattling around in my head for a bit and decided to get it down on paper ... or in Word. This is a love story between Vincent (a character in "Beauty and the Beast" that I do not own!) and Katrina, my own character. Please let me know what you think. This will probably be a very long story._

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**_Full Moon Lust_**

**September 1991**

She ran. She ran faster than she'd run her entire life. She ran like a hunted animal.

Which, she guessed, she was.

Everything in her wanted to Change, to shift shape and become the animal they hunted. Then, at least, she'd have a chance.

"Keep on her, men! We can't let her get away!"

And to think she'd once believed that the cops in New York City didn't care about anyone but themselves.

Her feet were shoeless, her clothing dirty and tattered. Twigs and leaves stuck out of her long, golden hair. To the common person, she looked like a homeless woman, too old to be a street urchin but much too young to be one of those bird-ladies sitting on a bench in the park.

At the age of 24, she also felt like she was too young to be running for her life through Central Park. She was sweating buckets and her breathing was labored, but she was outrunning the cops.

Unfortunately, a shot rang out and the tree she just passed splintered and cracked, reminding the girl not to get cocky; she couldn't outrun bullets.

The trees parted and gave way to a clearing. She hated to lose the cover of the branches, but she sighed in relief when she saw what she'd been searching for: the large drainage tunnel.

The police reached the clearing moments later and more shots rang out. A bullet grazed her right arm and she cried out in pain. She held her injured arm, trying to staunch the flow of blood, and made her way into the storm drain.

A little ways into the tunnel, she came to an intersection of sorts. There was another tunnel she could travel down that would exit back into the park and there was what looked to be a blocked off tunnel. Only, the blocked tunnel had a locked gate in front of it. Why would a tunnel that doesn't go anywhere need to be gated?

She pulled on the gate, wincing as pain shot through her arm, and was mildly surprised to see it swing open. It wasn't locked after all. She closed the gate behind her and stopped. She was fairly certain that this was the entrance, but how would she move solid rock?

Her eyes scanned the small area she stood in, searching for a loose rock or a button of some sort. The police were drawing nearer. None of the cops had been able to bring their K9 backups because, ironically, the dogs were all afraid of her.

Hell, _she_ was afraid of herself.

It was then that she found it: a small, almost invisible button of sorts. She pressed it and almost cheered for joy when the rock wall slid to the side. She darted quickly through the opening and saw another button on the other side. Pushing it, the door proceeded to return to its place of rest.

When the rock was back in place, she leaned her ear against it, straining to hear the voices of the police. Hoping against all hope that none of them had seen her disappear into the tunnel.

"Hey, where'd she go?" one voice yelled.

"She was just here a second ago," a second voice stated.

A more authoritative voice boomed. "Split up. You three go down that way. You two double back. Richards and I will search the area. We'll find her."

Her jaw dropped. She had had _seven_ cops on her tail and she'd only been shot once? Wincing, she realized that once had been more than enough. Blood still flowed freely from the wound and, as the adrenaline in her body started to wear off, she began to feel dizzy. She ripped off the bottom of her shirt and used it to bandage her arm. It would have to work for a little bit. Her stomach was now bare but she didn't care.

She turned from the rock door and faced the tunnel. The dirt floor beneath her feet was soft and, somehow, soothing. She could see footprints all over the floor. There was a sort of metallic tapping sound resonating off of the walls. It sounded like Morse Code, but it wouldn't have mattered if it was or not because she didn't know Morse Code anyway.

Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply through her nose, sifting through all the different smells. Rock and dirt. Candles and smoke. Human body odor and … there it was … the musk of a feline. Her hormones sped up and her heart pounded as she reveled in the scent. She opened her eyes and followed the trail.

She had gone down two tunnels and had turned into the third when she almost ran into a boy. _Boy_ was the wrong word, though, as her hormones recognized the pheromones of a young man. Warmth spread through her entire body and it took more effort than she thought she possessed not pounce on the boy and take him right then and there.

"You're the stranger," he said. She could sense his fear, but also recognized the underlying note of courage. He wasn't going to let her go any farther.

"I'm looking for someone." Her voice came out shaky and weak. Whether it was due to her wound or her hormones, she didn't know, but breathing was becoming more difficult.

"How did you get down here?"

He was probably waiting for backup, stalling for time by talking to her. Well, time was not a luxury she could afford right now.

She moved to get by him. "None of your business."

"Mouse knows all business." He moved into her way again.

Mouse? He had to be joking. Well, she was a cat … and cats like to play with their prey.

"Mouse, huh?" she stepped closer to him and he took a step back. "Get out of my way, little mouse."

His fear increased, but so did his courage and Mouse stood his ground. The cat in her wanted him, his body or his blood. Either way, it was the cat that lunged at the mouse.

They thrashed on the floor, a tangle of arms and legs. Pushing and shoving, sometimes clawing, the two wrestled on the ground. Pain moved through her body as her arm throbbed, a constant ache that she was beginning to think had always been there.

"Enough!"

The roar echoed through the tunnel as she and Mouse were ripped away from each other. She didn't need to see who held her by the back of her shirt; she could smell him. And her hormones jumped for joy at his nearness.

"Vincent," she breathed, her voice a husky whisper full of desire.

Vincent had put Mouse down before her. She wondered if he recognized her yet.

As if in answer, Vincent put her down. His blue eyes searched hers and his breathing became shallow. She wondered if the pheromones she was putting off were really that strong.

"Katrina?" His voice was a soothing rumble; she had forgotten how heavenly it sounded. Her body flushed and it felt as if any minute now her heart would explode out of her chest. She could barely nod.

"I thought you were supposed to leave the city," Vincent said. "That was our agreement."

"I know, Vincent," Katrina replied, licking her lips. It wasn't meant to be a suggestive gesture, but she noticed that his eyes followed her tongue and his breathing hitched. "But, Vincent, you've got to help me. I just can't bring myself to … do it with any other guy. I feel so … cheap."

Katrina didn't know what she expected. It was supposed to have only been a one time thing. Now, here she was, a month later, begging for round two.

Vincent closed his eyes a moment, and then opened them. "The urges are stronger this month." Somehow, she didn't think it was a question but she nodded anyway. Katrina wasn't sure if she could trust her voice right now.

Although, it wasn't her voice, but her legs that couldn't be trusted. She wobbled a bit, grateful when Vincent's steadying hand rested under her elbow.

"You're wounded," he said.

"Cops got a shot off." Katrina could feel the darkness closing in. Her hormones were starting to quiet down, probably due to the fact that she would be unconscious shortly.

Katrina could feel Vincent's concern as he gathered her into his arms, but there was also puzzlement.

"How did you find this place?" he asked, making his way to the infirmary.

Dark spots clouded her vision and Katrina was barely able to answer his question before the darkness claimed her. "Just … followed … your scent."


	2. Chapter 2

"Vincent, please, this is outrageous! You don't honestly expect me to believe this!"

Vincent had dropped Katrina off at the infirmary, reassured Mouse that everything was going to be okay, and gone to Father's chamber to inform him of who the intruder into their world really was.

The encounter was going worse than expected, but Vincent could understand his parent's reluctance to believe. If Vincent hadn't seen it himself, he wouldn't have believed.

"Believe it, Father, for it is true." Vincent had sat down in one of Father's chairs, in order to hide his arousal, but everything in him wanted to pace the floor. He wasn't supposed to ever see Katrina again and her arrival to his world was … shocking, to say the least.

Father was still on a roll. "You expect me to believe that once a month, during the full moon, that girl turns into a … a … a lion? I've heard of werewolves, Vincent, but they are creatures of folklore and myth. And I have never heard of a were-lion." In truth, Father was shocked that his son had even used the "L" word. It was a word not spoken Below as no one wanted to offend Vincent. And, yet, here his son was, openly using the word that, in the past, would have brought color to Vincent's face and shame to his heart.

Vincent patiently told his father the story the way that Katrina had told it to him. She had been working in a zoo when, two months – no, it would be three months now – ago, she had been attacked by the lioness. Apparently, the lioness at the zoo had actually been a were-lion. The woman had been caught while in her lion form and hadn't risked changing back. If she had, her life would've most certainly been full of scientific testing and cages.

Unfortunately, changing into an animal on the night of the full moon was not all that Mother Nature had in store for weres. According to Katrina, the week before the full moon, the urge to mate was high. The first month after her accident, Katrina had been able to keep the sexual urges at bay. No one had told her of the consequences of that, though.

If the lust for sex was not appeased, the lust for blood took over. The first time she changed into a lion, Katrina had gone crazy with bloodlust. She had run around Central Park and had attacked three people, one of which ended up in intensive care. The only reason she hadn't attacked more people that night was because Vincent had happened to be walking in Central Park that night and had seen her. He had chased the lioness around Central Park, keeping up with her most of the time. When he finally tired, he followed the scent of the lion to its resting place. It was not a lion that lay there, though, but a naked young woman, frightened and alone.

Her actions of the night had made her sick and she had vomited. Vincent had laid his cloak over her shoulders and had rubbed her back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. When she was finished heaving, she told him her story.

Vincent had suggested that she heed her sexual urges next month and, perhaps, the lust for blood would not be so great.

Katrina had quietly asked if he was offering to help relieve said urges.

In truth, he hadn't been offering. She proceeded to tell him that she'd never given her body to a man before and couldn't even imagine giving herself so freely whenever the urges hit. Katrina had shuddered to think of the type of men who would gladly pounce – no pun intended – on an opportunity like that.

And so, one month later, Katrina and Vincent had met in the park the night before the full moon. That night, she lost her virginity to him.

The night of the full moon, there were reports of a lioness running wild in Central Park, but there were no attacks. The lioness was sated and content to run.

"She's being hunted Above," Vincent stated. "I feel this may be the only place safe for her."

"Safe for her, maybe, but what about us, Vincent?" Father asked. "Am I supposed to let a vicious animal into our world?"

Vincent stiffened. "She is no more an animal than I am, Father. She is lost and confused. And I may be the only one who can help her."

"Vincent, you know what my thoughts are on _that_. It can never happen –"

"But it _did_ happen!" Vincent's voice rose. He rarely spoke so aggressively towards Father, but his emotions were in turmoil. "It happened with Catherine and Jacob was the result of it. It happened with Katrina and it saved her from the bloodlust." He paused and took in a breath, knowing what he was about to say was unwise. "Maybe it should happen again."

Vincent felt Katrina stirring. He was pleased to have the Bond back, but he knew so little about the woman he shared it with that he hoped it wouldn't end up hurting him in the end. And, in a manner most unlike him, Vincent decided not to tell his parent about the Bond he had with their "guest".

"Vincent –"

"The full moon is in two nights. Beyond that, I place the decision of whether she can stay in the hands of the Council. I'm going to check on her now."

And with that, Vincent left the chamber.

* * *

Katrina blinked her eyes, trying to get them to focus. She became aware of the metal tapping again and the dim light of candles and knew she was still in the Tunnels. She moved to sit up, ignoring the stars that danced around her eyes, but someone came towards her.

"Easy, there. Easy." The voice was male and Katrina's hormones started racing again. The man came around to her front and Katrina noted that he was older than his voice sounded. Not that an old man couldn't get it up – she _had_ to stop thinking like this! _Down girl!_

"You've lost a lot of blood."

"Ah, so _that's_ what happens when you get shot. Thanks, Doc."

He laughed. "Apparently getting shot hasn't tampered your sense of humor." He grabbed a stethoscope off a nearby table and brought it over to the bed. "Breathe in deeply now," he said as he placed it over her heart. Her thin shirt was still separating their flesh, but Katrina arched into his touch.

The doctor's expression grew puzzled and he seemed about to question Katrina's action when a deep voice interrupted.

"Peter."

Both doctor and patient turned to see Vincent standing in the doorway. Katrina's body flushed in both excitement and embarrassment. Had she really just been attracted to the doctor? She realized that she desperately needed to get her hormones sated before she started doing anything stupid.

Well, stupider than being shot at, that is.

Her breathing became labored as she took in Vincent's appearance. His whole body seemed taught, as if he were restraining every muscle he possessed. His eyes were dark with desire and Katrina realized that he wouldn't be able to refuse her even if he tried. Vincent's nostrils flared as he took in her scent. She breathed deeply as well, as if his scent alone could slake her lust.

In fact, the opposite happened and her body pulsed with desire, the area between her legs throbbing in anticipation.

Vincent noticed that Peter was still in the room, watching the two of them with a look of concern. "How is she, Peter?" Vincent asked, attempting to concentrate on something other than the straining of his jeans.

Peter was a bit flustered, unable to figure out what was going on between Vincent and this girl, and he explained to Vincent about her wounded arm. Katrina had lost a lot of blood and was supposed to take it easy for a couple of days. Peter lamented that he didn't have a sling to put the injured arm in, but Katrina quickly declined his offer to get one for her.

The doctor had barely been talking for two minutes, but Vincent was certain that he would die if he didn't have Katrina soon. He thanked Peter for all that he had done and promised that he would take care of Katrina. Though, Vincent couldn't help but silently add that he would be taking care of her in manners which the good doctor hadn't suggested nor would probably approve of.

Vincent picked Katrina up, both thankful and wary of her sudden proximity, and carried her to his chamber. The trip was taken in silence, each fully aware of the other's desires and the underlying sense of fear. While Vincent feared hurting her, Katrina feared what he thought of her. Did he think her promiscuous, offering her body to him without knowing anything about him?

Finally, she was gently placed on a bed, and she watched as Vincent put a torch in the crevice outside the chamber entrance and then lowered the curtain, shutting them in. He was reluctant, however, to turn around and face the woman lying on his bed. Katrina sat up and pulled her knees to her chest.

"I'm sorry, Vincent," she whispered, somehow knowing that he would hear her.

He turned around. His eyes were still dark with lust and his body still taut with desire, but his brow furrowed in confusion. "Sorry for what?"

"For forcing myself on you. I can only imagine what you think of me. Here I am again, parting my legs and begging you to take me." She hugged her knees harder and her whole body shook with desire. Oh, how she needed him inside her.

Claws formed fists as Vincent tried to control himself. Control the side of him that wanted to ravish her senseless. "You cannot control your instincts."

"No, but that doesn't change the fact that I feel like a slut."

Vincent closed his eyes, contemplating what to say. He knew she needed the sex, but she also needed to feel of worth. He tried being as honest as he could. "I will not tell you that I love you, for we do not know each well enough for such sentiments. But I will tell you that I have no other outlet for my own urges and am grateful that you allow me some release."

Katrina smiled a little. Okay, so he needed her as much as she needed him. Somehow, that made it a little more bearable. She pulled off her top, surprised that her arm didn't hurt more, and started to unbutton her jeans. "Please, Vincent. Mate with me."

In truth, she had wanted to say "make love to me," but that was something only lovers did. Perhaps, in the future, she would be able to mutter those words to him. But for now, all that passed between them was a service of sorts. He saved her from the bloodlust, she saved him from … well, she didn't actually know, but he said he needed her and that was good enough.


	3. Chapter 3

_Reader - Well, no one's reviewed this yet. Makes me think no one's reading it. Oh, well. So, there's a pretty graphic sex scene in this chapter. Just, for your information. Hope it's good. I've never actually had sex, so I'm using anything I've ever read in romance novels here. Enjoy!_

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Vincent dropped his cloak unceremoniously on the ground while Katrina wiggled out of her jeans. Clad in her underwear and bra, she watched as he shed his clothing. As she watched the boots, shirt, vest, and pants all fall to the floor, Katrina was reminded of the first time they'd mated. Last month, when they'd met in the park, Vincent had lay down his cloak and they'd each stripped off their own clothes.

The cycle seemed to repeat itself, she marveled, as she ripped off her own underwear and bra. Vincent removed his boxers and stood before the bed in all his glory. She silently wished that she had been the one to remove his clothing. That she had been able to run her fingers over every inch of his furred skin. But no, that was what lovers did.

If they had been lovers, Katrina would have praised the beauty of his furred body or maybe teased that she had such a powerful effect on him. Instead, she parted her legs and whispered "Please" one more time.

He covered her in an instant. One minute he was in front of the bed, the next he was on top of her. She felt him hard against her thigh, silently cursing because that wasn't where she wanted him. She kissed his feline lips, running her tongue across them to beg for entrance.

His mouth opened and their tongues danced, tasting every inch of the other's mouth. Her tongue brushed against his fangs and she could feel Vincent stiffen. Katrina drew back to inhale and Vincent took the opportunity to worship her breast with his mouth. Licking, sucking, and gently nipping, Katrina's head flew back onto the quilt as she cried out in ecstasy. His tongue was scratchy like that of a feline, but Katrina was sure she'd never felt anything so wonderful in her life. Running her hands through the fur on his back, Katrina gasped as he moved to the other breast, her nipples painfully aroused.

Every cell in her body seemed more sensitive than normal and she felt his soft fur everywhere. She felt the light dusting of fur on his arousal and tried to remember if that had tickled last month. That thought, and all other thought for that matter, was driven from her mind when Vincent's hand brushed her inner thigh.

Vincent hadn't needed to verify that she was ready for him; he could smell her need. But he couldn't resist slipping a claw-tipped finger gently inside the folds of her sex. He could feel her pleasure as she gasped, crying out to some higher deity.

Katrina was sure she was going to burst when he removed his finger from her sex. She heard herself whimper, quietly begging that he come inside her. Vincent positioned his body, keeping most of his considerable weight on his arms, and leaned down to kiss her as he eased his body into hers.

Her contented sigh startled him slightly, causing him to break the kiss and look into her eyes. Katrina's eyes were closed, but a look of sheer bliss shown back at him, her lips slightly parted. Vincent remained still until her eyes opened.

Katrina wrapped her legs around his hips, felt him sink further into her body, and breathed a sigh of sweet relief. "Thank you," she whispered, but she wasn't sure really what she was thanking him for. Obviously, thanking him for the sex, but possibly thanking him for his tenderness. He hadn't needed to engage in any sort of foreplay. She'd been hot and wet for hours before she'd even made it to the Tunnels. But Vincent worshiped her body, treating her as he would a lover, someone he knew intimately.

She kissed the furred bridge of his flattened nose as he began to move inside her, gentle thrusts at first, to allow her body to acclimate to his size, then quicker thrusts as their pleasure built. Katrina matched his rhythm as she ran her fingers through his mane, her own hair wildly fanned around her on the quilt.

A growl started low in his chest and Vincent blushed in embarrassment. The animalistic sound coming from him was just one more example of how he was different from everyone else. But Katrina didn't seem to mind. Surely she'd noticed, but instead of looking at him in fear or disgust, she smiled at him and kissed him, as if she wanted to absorb the vibrations into her body.

The growl became an all out roar as Vincent emptied his seed into her. Katrina's muscles clenched around him and she cried out as well as her own release threatened to tear her apart.

Placing another gentle kiss on her lips, Vincent pulled out of Katrina's body, his own strong musculature feeling weak but sated. He rolled onto his back and felt, rather than saw, Katrina stretch beside him. Her hand reached out as if to touch him, but she quickly snatched it away. Basking in the afterglow was something that lovers did, she chided herself.

Still, she felt like she needed to say something. "Wow! That was wonderful."

"Yes, it was," came the gravely reply.

Katrina rolled onto her right side to look at him, but the pain in her arm stopped her. "Ow," she said, then "Dang it" in exasperation. At Vincent's questioning look, Katrina averted her eyes and muttered, "Getting shot was stupid."

He wanted to laugh, though he didn't really know why, but instead he asked, "Do you need anything for the pain?" He knew the answer; he could feel her pain, but it was more of a dull ache than anything serious. An annoyance she would deal with.

"No, I'm fine." She confirmed his thoughts. Then, hesitantly, as if it would be asking to much, said, "I am a little hungry."

Vincent rose and began to redress. _Little hungry_ was an understatement; her body was raked with hunger pains which she would never admit to but he could feel nonetheless.

He sighed. He was going to have to tell her about the Bond sooner or later. Looking at her lying naked on his bed, watching him dress, made him want to strip off his clothes again and give her pleasure. Made him want to worship her body and cause her to cry out in ecstasy one more time.

Pushing those thoughts from his head, Vincent picked up his cloak and laid it over a chair, he needn't wear it Below unless it was cold, and went to the doorway.

"I need to pick up Jacob and meet with Father and the Council. I will send someone with food and clothing. Will that be alright?"

Katrina pulled a blanket over her naked body, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, thanks," she muttered. Then, "Who's Jacob?"

The curtain pulled aside, back to her, Vincent didn't even turn around when he said, practically whispered, "My son."

Katrina's jaw dropped. He had a _son_?! But, he had said that he didn't have anyone to 'relieve his urges'. Katrina was about to jump off the bed and demand to know more when she heard him say something on the other side of the curtain. Even her enhanced hearing had trouble picking it up.

"I'm sorry, Catherine."

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	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note:** Thank you so much, bramasole, for giving me a review! No, this story is not even close to done, but I will try to write more fervently so I can upload chapters quicker for loyal readers like yourself._

_**Disclaimer:** No, I don't own "Beauty and the Beast", but I do own Katrina. I was reading a book about werewolves and thought, "Wait a second, I can do something with this!" I've seen a season and a half of BatB and am kinda getting frustrated at Vincent and Catherine. Hence, why I made up a "more suitable" mate for Vincent._

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His thoughts were a jumble as Vincent walked the tunnels to Mary's chamber. He had used such restraint when it came to his beloved Catherine that they'd only made love once, an event he didn't even remember due to the madness. Then she'd become pregnant, and had been kidnapped and killed by the madman who wanted their child.

Years. He had known Catherine for _years_.

He'd only known Katrina for a few months now, this being the third time he'd seen the woman in that time.

Three meetings. Two ended in sex.

Vincent was seriously going to need to have his head examined. He must be crazy; that was the only explanation.

He arrived at Mary's chamber, but waited a moment in the doorway.

"… and they all lived happily ever after. The end." Mary had been reading a story from a fairy tale book by Hans Christian Anderson. Many of the tunnel children were scattered about the room, some seated on the chairs and the bed, some kneeling at Mary's feet, all enraptured with the tale Mary had told them.

A girl named Samantha, who was about nine years old, held little Jacob. The toddler had probably not heard a single word that Mary had spoken – he was too enthralled with Sam's hair – but Samantha had a frown on her face.

"Mary? Why would the little mermaid leave the sea for a _prince_? She won't ever be able to see her father or sisters again."

"People make sacrifices when they're in love, Sam. She was so in love with the prince that life below the sea without him didn't seem like a life at all."

Sam pondered this for a moment, but was still troubled. "When I get older, if I decided to go Above, I could come back here right?"

Before Mary could answer, Vincent's low voice came from the doorway. "Of course, Samantha," he said, moving to kneel before the girl who held his son. Jacob's mouth broke into a grin as the boy practically launched himself at his father.

"You are always welcome to come back home, Samantha. You know that we'd receive you with open arms," Vincent said.

Sam still seemed to have something on her mind, but when she was not immediately forthcoming with her thoughts, Vincent decided to ask her about it later. As it was, he needed to take care of Katrina now.

"Mary, would it be possible to speak with you for a moment?"

Many of the children took that as a sign to leave the chamber, casting quick good-byes and thank-yous over their shoulders before leaving. Those children who didn't take the hint were quickly yanked away by their comrades.

Before Sam could leave, Vincent put his hand on her shoulder, keeping Jacob steady with one hand. "If you should need to talk, Samantha, my chamber is always open."

The girl nodded her understanding. "Thank you, Vincent," she said as she scurried away to play with her friends; the promise of being able to speak her thoughts to Vincent seemed to lighten her mood.

Mary smiled at the departing children, then turned to Vincent. "What can I do for you, Vincent?"

"I have a guest in my chamber," Vincent began, conveniently omitting how his guest had gotten there or what they had done since her arrival. "Her clothing is inadequate and she hasn't eaten a good meal in a long time. I was hoping you could see to her well-being while I attend a Council meeting. I know you are a member of the Council but …"

Mary held up her hand, silencing anything more that he had to say. "Of course, I will help, Vincent. Council meetings pale in comparison to actually helping someone."

Vincent adjusted Jacob in his arms, smiling when the boy grabbed onto a lock of his mane and tugged. "The Council will be meeting in order to determine whether she can stay in our world permanently or not. Her circumstances are … unique."

Mary didn't ask questions, for which Vincent was abundantly relieved. The old woman merely nodded. "I will do what I can to make sure her stay, however long it may be, will be comfortable."

"Thank you, Mary."

Quite certain that Katrina's well-being was in capable hands, Vincent left and made his way to Father's chamber, where the Council meeting would take place.

* * *

While Vincent and Mary had been talking, Katrina had been exploring. She hadn't bothered re-dressing – her clothes weren't much more than rags now anyway – as she walked about the room.

Beyond the bed was a beautiful stained glass window of vibrant yellows and oranges. There was a statue, various trinkets here and there, a small record player, and a large chest placed about the room. A small table with a few chairs stood in the middle of the room, a small leather bound book and some pens resting on it. Katrina picked up the book and flipped through it, quickly putting it back when she realized it was Vincent's journal. She was briefly tempted to see if he'd written anything about the last time they met in the park, but quickly dismissed the idea.

Cats may be curious by nature, but she refused to invade his privacy like that.

Of course, she briefly wondered how much privacy she really could give him when she could _feel_ his emotions when he did. It was strange, to say the least, and she really ought to tell him about it. Katrina decided that when she saw Vincent again, she would tell him.

And hope he wasn't disgusted or anything.

She continued to walk about the room, noticing the knick knacks and wondering what stories they held to make Vincent want to keep them and treasure them always. Katrina saw a small metal bowl lying upside down and moved to right it. The moment she touched it, however, her hand burned and she dropped the bowl with a yelp.

Katrina stared at the bowl, then at her hand, which had grown red like she'd been burned. Puzzled, she picked up something else from the table where the bowl had sat.

Nothing happened. The plastic Empire State Building wasn't hot.

Thinking she must've imagined the whole thing, Katrina bent to pick up the bowl, wincing when it burned her already raw skin. She dropped it and let it stay on the ground.

"My name is Mary, dear. May I come in?" a woman's voice called from the other side of the curtain.

Ignoring the pain in her right hand – which seemed to dance with the pain from the bullet she'd received earlier – Katrina searched about nervously for something to cover herself in.

Her eyes settled on Vincent's cloak and she hurriedly wrapped it around herself.

"Yeah, okay," she replied.

If the woman, Mary, was surprised that she was wearing Vincent's cloak, she didn't show it. As it was, Mary held a tray of food and a basket of clothing hung from one arm.

Mary had barely set the tray down on the table before Katrina grabbed the loaf of bread. Fresh and warm, the bread tasted like heaven and she closed her eyes in bliss.

Living on the streets was definitely teaching her to value the things in life that she'd always taken for granted.

"What's your name, dear?"

"Katrina," she replied around a mouthful of bread. Before she'd even swallowed the first bite, she took another.

"And when was the last time you ate, Katrina?"

Not bothering with manners, Katrina spoke with her mouth full again. "If I said I didn't remember, would that answer your question?"

Mary looked shocked for a moment, until her features turned to an expression of understanding and slight anger. "Above isn't know for taking care of their poor," she stated, as if the mere idea of not helping someone in need was foreign to her.

Maybe it was.

A few more bites of bread, then Katrina said, "Ironic, isn't it? My parents aren't even poor. Kinda upper-middle class folks. But, when you go through what I did and freak your family out, you find out real quick what it's like on the other side of the tracks."

"What could you have gone through that would make your parents turn you away when you need them the most?" Mary was appalled and Katrina desperately wanted to dissuade the image of cruel parents that the older woman most likely had in her mind. But Katrina's father had told her not to come back and her brother had called her all sorts of horrible names using words Katrina herself would never repeat. Katrina's mother had cried. Just stood there and cried. She didn't fight for her daughter and didn't shun her either.

Maybe the image wasn't so wrong after all.

Before Katrina could answer the woman, Mary got a look at her exposed arm, where she held her bread. The bandage was dark with blood, desperately needing to be changed, and her arm was filthy.

"Oh, no. This will never do."

And before Katrina knew it, Mary had stripped her of the cloak and led her into the bathing chamber.

_

* * *

_

Don't worry, folks, I'm still not done. I'm trying to keep the characters' voices, but I'm not sure about Mary. She always seemed like kind of a Mrs. Potts character, so I may have used the word "dear" too many times. Let me know what you think, please!

_Oh, and I've only seen a season and a half, but I've not seen any sort of bathroom (shower, toilet, etc.) in the Tunnels. The first BatB book mentions hot showers and plumbing, and mentioned that Vincent had a bathing chamber just off his own chamber. I'm going to do what I can to make it as "authentic" as I can, but know that not everyone is going to have their own bathing chamber. That would just be weird. Very un-BatB._

_GetItOuttaMySystem_


	5. Chapter 5

"Ow!" Katrina yelped, overreacting a bit. "You do realize we've got to be getting close to my natural skin color by now, right?"

She was standing under a spray of lukewarm water – which had actually been hot when they'd started her shower – getting scrubbed unmercifully by Mary. Mary had been amazingly gentle around her wound, cleaning it and the surrounding area with such efficient tenderness that Katrina got the impression the woman had been a nurse in her previous life.

"I have cleaned rambunctious little boys who were less dirty than you," Mary replied dryly.

Katrina herself had been appalled at the filthy coloring of the water that came off her body.

As Mary went behind her to wash her hair _again_, Katrina took the time to study the bathing chamber. The room was rather large for a bathroom; the floor slanted a little to the right, which allowed the water to flow in that direction toward a hole in the ground. The ground was rock – all the dirt having washed away long ago in earlier showers – and slick; more than once she'd needed Mary to steady her.

The toilet was positively barbaric when compared to what Katrina was accustomed to, but rather impressive considering their surroundings. Katrina was impressed that the Tunnel-dwellers had plumbing at all!

The water chilled a bit more, evidence of how long they'd actually been in this room, and her nipples tightened painfully.

"P-p-please tell me we're almost done," she pleaded as her body shivered.

She was looking for a reassurance that didn't come. "Close your eyes, dear," Mary said as she gently pushed Katrina's head so that it was more directly under the spray of now-icy water. As Mary massaged the soap out of her hair, Katrina found it harder and harder to breathe now that she was so cold.

Mary must've noticed this because she quickened her pace and shut off the water as soon as Katrina's hair was free of soap bubbles. The older woman grabbed two surprisingly soft towels, wrapping one around Katrina's shoulders and using the other to dry the younger woman's hair.

Hair bound in one towel and color slowly returning to her skin, Katrina toweled herself dry and waited for Mary to finish wringing out her soaked dress. She had suggested that the older woman just remove her clothing while Katrina was showering, but the look on Mary's face suggested that nakedness was not acceptable and group showering was unheard of.

Katrina must've visited the gym a bit too often for something like that to become commonplace.

Mary watched as Katrina dressed, ready to assist if needed, and finally the younger girl's curiosity got the better of her. "Mary, who's Catherine?" she asked, pulling on a long-sleeved shirt. She had been mildly surprised that there wasn't a bra, but Katrina wasn't going to complain. She hated bras anyway.

A look of sadness passed over Mary's face in a moment, so quick that Katrina wasn't sure she'd seen it or imagined it. But the woman's voice held such grief that Katrina was certain whoever Catherine had been, the woman was no more.

"She was Vincent's love, little Jacob's mother."

Katrina bit her lip as she pulled on her pants. They were a bit big, but more comfortable than any jeans she'd ever worn. Maybe that was due to the patchwork of fabrics used. She was almost reluctant to ask her next question for fear of causing more pain to this woman who had given her so much. Still …

"What happened to her?"

Mary hesitated, as if uncertain whether she should be sharing the information or not. Finally, she said, "She was killed, by a madman who wanted Jacob because he's Vincent's son."

"So, Jacob looks like Vincent, then?" Katrina asked, the thought having just occurred to her. She hadn't known Vincent all that long, but it was so easy to see the man and not the animal that Katrina had automatically assumed his son looked like an ordinary little boy.

It was unfortunate that people were so mislead by appearances. If they weren't, Katrina would still be able to have a normal life Above.

Mary smiled. "Both father and son have the bluest eyes you've ever seen, but that is where the physical similarities end. Jacob takes after his mother physically, but the boy has the same quiet temperament as Vincent."

Katrina quickly thrust a piece of cheese into her mouth before pulling on her vest and gloves.

Satisfied that Katrina didn't need any more help, Mary went about the chamber, idly tidying up. She folded Vincent's cloak over the chair and her eyes noticed the little silver bowl on the ground for the first time.

"What's this doing here?" she asked as she picked it up and put it back on the table-stand where it had come from.

Katrina stuttered, amazed that Mary was able to touch the little bowl without the pain that she herself had felt. "Uh, I, uh, I picked it up and … it burned me," she finished lamely.

Mary looked at her, puzzled. "Burned? Are you alright? How is that even possible? It's just a little silver bowl."

Silver. Like a light bulb being switched on, understanding dawned on Katrina. In the stories, werewolves could only be killed by silver bullets. It made sense that a were-lion would have the same weakness.

Katrina sighed. Just one more way her life had become a sci-fi movie.

A flash of anger passed through Katrina so strongly it took her breath away. She leaned on the bed to steady herself and put her hand to her heart.

"Dear, are you alright? What's wrong?"

It took Katrina a moment to catch her breath. In that moment, she realized that it wasn't her own emotion she was feeling, but rather Vincent's. What had happened to cause his usually calm demeanor to change so violently and so rapidly?

"Mary, what's Vincent doing right now?"

A look of what might have been understanding passed over Mary's features as she came to Katrina's side to comfort the girl. "He and the other Council members are discussing your arrival and the possibility of continuing your stay with us. Why?"

"It's not going well."

* * *

This meeting was not going well. Vincent couldn't help his surprise at that fact; their community rarely turned people away when they needed help. As it was, the Council was divided in two, with the majority hoping for Katrina to leave and the others insisting she stay.

"She's a danger to our way of life," Pascal said, and Vincent couldn't help his shocked reaction. "A few months back, she attacked a man in the park," Pascal went on. "He's in a coma!"

Vincent tried to understand Pascal's reaction to Katrina's presence. Pascal had been born Below; the culture of their society was all he knew. He understood work because everyone Below contributed to meet a need. Pascal's own "job" was his passion: the pipes.

The pipes were used as a means of communication Below. The idea had started by using Morse Code, but shortened abbreviations had quickly been added to speed up communication. Anyone Below could use a hard object to tap out a message on the pipes. Pascal would then, in the chamber where all the pipes intersected, re-direct the message to the area where the intended listener would hear it.

Even as the pipe master was in a Council meeting, conversations along the pipes still continued, though somewhat less organized.

As of late, many of the messages over the pipes consisted of rumors or questions about the new girl and what the Council was meeting about.

"The girl needs our help!" William replied earnestly.

William was Below's chef; though the food was not always five-star material, William could take anything and create a culinary masterpiece with it. His personality matched his large size and he was passionate about many things. He valued loyalty and friendship above everything and wouldn't tolerate betrayal or violence of any kind.

William continued, "Vincent says that he can help her learn to control the Change. He says that last month, when he helped her, she didn't need to satisfy the blood lust."

Father turned to Vincent, addressing the man who had kept mostly silent during the meeting-turned-debate.

"Vincent, I realize that you think you can control this woman, but the possibility remains that you will not be able to. The full moon is in two days. If she is not under control during that time, our lives, the lives of the children, are all at stake."

Control. Vincent was seriously starting to dislike that word. Father spoke of controlling Katrina like one would control a disobedient pet. She was a woman. A woman who loved to laugh and had never truly grown up. A woman with the body of an adult and the heart of a child.

It surprised him greatly that the people who had embraced him despite his differences, the people he called family, were reluctant to embrace someone who was like him.

At least a little like him.

Part human, part animal.

Vincent looked into the eyes of the little boy in his lap. His tiny fist held onto a lock of Vincent's mane like it was his lifeline.

Finally, he addressed the Council.

"Before Jacob was born, we didn't even know if I was human." Some moved to speak out against this outrageous claim, but one clawed hand held up stopped any interruptions. "Now, Katrina comes to us, alone and frightened. She _was_ human her whole life and has now been changed into something else. Her family has cast her out, ashamed of her existence, and the man who loved her has refused her. How can we do the same?"

The members of the Council were quiet, each contemplating their decisions, some facing their fears. Whether he had meant to or not, Vincent had provided enough of a closing argument to where it was now time for a verdict. Even though the meeting wasn't about Vincent at all, he still felt like a man on trial, breathlessly awaiting the jury's decision.

Katrina's future, possibly even her life, depended on these people.

* * *

_Author's note: Sorry! I didn't actually mean to leave it as a cliff-hanger. I PROMISE that in the next chapter, you'll learn the Council's decision._

_Review please. Let me know what you like, don't like, or want to see. I've got the story pretty much mapped out in my head, but I'll do what I can with suggestions I'm given._

_GetItOuttaMySystem_


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: Thank you, MrsPhantomSylvia, for your review. I'm glad to hear you like my story. It's been a while since I've updated this story and I want to apologize to my readers. As a reward for your patience, this chapter's a long one!_

_GetItOuttaMySystem_

* * *

Mary comforted Katrina as her heart returned to its normal beat. Vincent's anger must've subsided, but it was replaced by a feeling in her gut she couldn't quite explain. Disappointment, maybe? Katrina had the sudden realization that the Council had decided not to let her stay Below.

It shouldn't have surprised her, but it was a bummer nonetheless.

Mary was about to ask what had just happened when a voice sounded from the other side of the curtain.

"Vincent? Need to talk."

"Vincent's not here, Mouse," Mary called to the covered doorway.

Mouse pulled back the curtain, apparently assuming that privacy wasn't needed if Vincent wasn't in the room, and halted upon seeing Katrina.

"You," he said simply, eyeing her warily, like she was a predator.

Katrina smirked. She kind of _was_ a predator.

"Yeah, hi," she said with a smile to the boy she'd attacked. "Sorry about earlier."

At this, Mouse gave her a genuine smile. "Vincent said Katrina sick. Better now?"

Katrina blushed as she thought of what she and Vincent had done - on the bed she was leaning on - so that she would be okay. "Yeah, I'm better now."

"Okay, good. Okay, fine."

"I'm Katrina," she said, only just realizing that he'd actually already used her name. "My friends call me Kat."

"Kat and Mouse. Good joke."

There was a brief pause in conversation, a silence that couldn't truly be considered awkward, before Mary addressed the boy. "Vincent is in a Council meeting right now, Mouse. He should be back shortly."

"Council meeting's over," Katrina replied without thinking. The other two people in the chamber looked at her as if wondering how she could know such a thing. But before she could explain, or at least _lie_, Katrina caught a scent that sent tingles of pleasure down her spine.

Just then, Vincent entered the chamber, carrying the cutest little boy she'd ever seen.

"Aw, look at him!" Katrina exclaimed, taking the boy out of Vincent's arms without even asking for permission. She heard Mary excuse herself and Vincent promise to help Mouse with his project later in the evening but her eyes were only for the adorable little boy, Jacob.

They were alone, then, the three of them. Katrina held on to Jacob, laughing when he grabbed her hair and tugged lightly. Using the voice that women around the world reserve for talking to infants, Katrina told Jacob that he was cute, yes he was, and he was the most beautiful baby in the whole world. The baby thrashed his arms about, smiling widely and giggling. Katrina was sure the laughter was the most beautiful sound in the world.

Well, maybe second most beautiful. Vincent's voice still made her knees weak.

"Sorry about that. He likes hair."

Katrina laughed, giving a pointed glance to Vincent's long mane. "I wonder why," she said lightly.

The corner of Vincent's mouth curved up in what she knew was a smile and he hung his head resignedly.

"Does he talk yet?" Without waiting for Vincent's answer, Katrina addressed the boy. "Can you say 'Dadda'? Say 'Dadda'." Jacob squealed with pleasure again.

"Mary doesn't know why, but he doesn't speak. He's intelligent, though."

"Of course he is; he's your son."

Katrina absently wondered how she could hold the boy in her arms without feeling pain in her arm. Maybe the doc had given her something for the pain when she was unconscious.

"Katrina -"

"I'm sorry about Catherine," Katrina blurted. She didn't know why, but it was important to her to let Vincent know that she knew.

He took a deep breath, seeming to control his emotions. It didn't matter; Katrina could feel them all. Love, pain, joy, despair, they all swirled through her like a tornado in Kansas. She needed to tell him about _that_ too.

"Who told you?"

"Mary. When you said her name, I thought I'd ask. I wanted to know who my competition was, but …" she faltered, then hung her own head. "Sorry, that was crass."

When he didn't say anything for a moment, Katrina was afraid she'd truly offended him. Profound apologies started building on her tongue, threatening to spill forth in a rush of words.

Just as the dam was about to burst, Vincent said, "It surprises me to have someone worried about competition for my affections."

"Why? You're a good-looking guy!"

Vincent held up his hand. "Please don't. It makes what I have to say that much harder. The Council -"

"- wants me to leave. It's okay, Vincent. Believe me, I understand."

"How did you know?"

Katrina shrugged. Here goes nothing. "During the meeting, I felt your anger. I dunno, someone must've said something bad about me. Afterwards, I felt your disappointment, and I knew. No biggie though. I'm tough. I'll survive."

She wasn't sure when he'd stopped listening, but he stared at her puzzled. "You _felt_?"

Wincing, Katrina tried to play it off. "It's kinda weird, I know, but it's been happening for a while now. I think it started after that first time in the park. Not the first time I saw you, but the first time we mated. After that, even though we were apart, we weren't. Not really. I don't know how I do it and I'm sorry 'cause it's probably a _huge_ invasion of privacy or whatever." Unable to meet his gaze, she focused all her attention on Jacob, smoothing his hair and letting him hold her finger in his fist.

"You can feel _my_ emotions? That's never happened before."

Katrina stuttered a bit, attempting to make up an excuse, when Vincent interrupted her.

"I meant that I've never had anyone feel my emotions like I can feel theirs."

Blue eyes met hazel as he let that sink in.

"Wait, you can feel _my_ emotions? Really?"

He nodded.

"Huh." _Oh, good Kat. Very eloquent._

"I can feel him too," Vincent explained, gesturing to Jacob. "Like I could feel Catherine."

Katrina was jealous. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't help it. Vincent had loved Catherine. They'd had a son together. And now, he wasn't truly over her death. Katrina was attracted to him, yet she doubted he could ever love her.

And, to make matters worse, the look Vincent was giving her suggested he knew _exactly_ what she was feeling.

"Would you tell me about her?" Katrina said, partly to deflect the attention from herself and partly out of curiosity. "Then I'll leave, I promise."

"You don't have to leave until after the full moon. I was able to get Father to compromise that much. And during the full moon, we have to go down into the deeper, uninhabited Tunnels."

"_We_?"

Vincent nodded. "I said I would help you, and I intend to."

Katrina smiled, grateful beyond measure that he would be with her every step of the way this month. She hadn't gotten used to her other form completely. Maybe having him there would make the Change more bearable. Would make her feel like less of a monster.

After putting Jacob on the floor, where he played with a few wooden toys Katrina had not noticed before, she sat on the bed while Vincent sat in the chair at the small table. He told her about Catherine. About finding her in the park, broken and discarded. About how he and Father had nursed her back to health. He told her about the time he saw her again after eight months, and the time where she almost married another man to save him. Vincent told her of the times when Catherine had gotten into trouble and he'd saved her. He told her of Paracelsus and his attempts on both his life and Catherine's.

It was late when he came to the conclusion of his story. Jacob had been put to bed – he slept on one side of Vincent's large bed – and Katrina had started to feel hunger pains. She refused to interrupt, however, and listened to Vincent's beautiful voice as he recounted one of the worst times of his life.

He told her of the madness that he occasionally succumbed to. He told her that he had no recollection of making love with Catherine, but when he came to his senses, he realized that he couldn't feel her like normal. At first, he'd thought the madness had taken away their Bond, but afterwards he found out that the baby somehow blocked the Bond. After Jacob was born, Vincent told Katrina that he'd felt Catherine again and searched for her, finally finding her on a rooftop where her son – _their_ son – was being taken away by a madman. She died in his arms, there.

Vincent paused in his story, his breathing ragged as he remembered the horror of watching his love die. What was worse was the helplessness that came when he'd realized there was nothing he could do to help his beloved Catherine.

He suddenly realized that he'd been talking much longer than he normally did and he could feel Katrina's hunger pains. Vincent quickly finished by telling Katrina about the eight months he spent searching for little Jacob. The silence in the chamber suddenly felt thick to Katrina has she tried to absorb everything she'd learned.

"Wow," was all she could get out.

"You're hungry?" Vincent tactfully changed the subject. He was uncomfortable being the center of attention.

"Yeah, how did you … never mind," Katrina smiled.

Vincent rose with a grace that belittled his size. "Perhaps we can find something to eat in the kitchen."

Katrina rose as well, but paused even as Vincent made to leave the chamber. "Wait, what about Jacob?"

"I will feel it if he awakens."

Katrina stole another glance at the sleeping boy then followed Vincent out the chamber.

They walked down the Tunnels in silence. Most of the other Tunnel dwellers were asleep in their own chambers, but the sound of metal tapping drew Kat's curiosity. She remembered hearing it throughout the day but still had no idea where it came from.

"What's that tapping sound? It sounds like it's coming from the pipes."

The corner of Vincent's mouth turned up in a smile. "It is. We use the pipes to communicate with each other."

"No kidding? Like Morse Code?" Katrina laughed. That was the coolest thing she'd every heard of!

"Similar to Morse Code, yes." Vincent mentally compared this conversation with a similar one he'd had with Catherine, upon first meeting her. Her face had been bandaged, so she hadn't been able to see. She had questioned the metal tapping and then commented that no one could have any privacy if conversations were broadcast like that. Vincent had tried to explain that the community Below didn't have secrets from one another, so privacy was unnecessary.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised that Katrina didn't bring up the privacy issue. Although, he would have to learn to stop comparing the two women in his mind.

"Can you teach me?" Katrina asked, bubbling with excitement.

Vincent had spent his whole life keeping his own emotions under constant supervision. Katrina was like a breath of fresh air. Like a child, she spoke her mind and all her emotions were clearly visible. When Vincent had first met her in the park, her face had shown the complete terror she felt toward the other part of her. Their second meeting, her face had shown the embarrassment and shyness that only a virgin feels.

Vincent took full advantage of her visible emotions – and their Bond – when he mated with Katrina. He watched as her face radiated joy as he pleasured her. He was nearly as untried as she in the art of making love, and Vincent was still self-conscious about his physical appearance.

Vincent stopped walking, an act that caused Katrina to nearly trip over her own feet. His thoughts derailed like a train off its tracks. Had he just thought _making love_? As in, him and Katrina _making love_? No, he needed to stop that right now! Katrina was only here to slack her lust. He was the first man to care for her after her transformation and she had held onto that care to survive. They had a business arrangement. She mated with him to ease the full moon lust and he mated with her to ease the feeling of loneliness.

There was no _making love_, Vincent chided himself, because Katrina _didn't love him_.

"Vincent, what's wrong?" Katrina gazed worryingly up into his face. He watched her eyes dart around the tunnel and her nostrils flare. Apparently, she thought that he had sensed they were in danger.

"Nothing. I was thinking of things that cannot be," Vincent said, surprising himself by using Father's words. Words he had fought mere hours before.

Katrina arched an eyebrow, but didn't question his statement. Maybe she felt his inner turmoil and decided to let him tell her when he wanted to. And, like the child trapped in a woman's body that she was, Katrina resumed their previous conversation.

"So, will you teach me the pipe language?" Katrina smiled at the thought, and then her smile fell. "Oh. Right. I'm leaving after the full moon. Why bother?"

She looked so crestfallen that Vincent's heart broke as she hung her head in defeat. What must she be thinking? If she couldn't be accepted _here_, where could she belong?

As if on cue, a message for Vincent came across the pipes. Pascal wanted to see Vincent in the Pipe Chamber as soon as possible. Vincent smiled and moved toward the nearest pipe. Katrina followed, watching as Vincent bent to pick up a stone from the ground. But before he tapped out a reply, he glanced to the woman by his side.

"Listen. That series of taps is my name. Pascal wants me to meet him in the pipe chamber."

Kat's face lit up. "That's so cool! What are you gonna say?"

"I can tell him we'll join him after supper."

Katrina looked around at the deserted tunnels. "If I'm not mistaken, everyone's in bed. We shouldn't make him stay up any later. We can always raid the kitchen afterwards."

Vincent debated with himself. Katrina was hungry and Pascal probably wanted to apologize to Vincent for his behavior during the Council Meeting – the apology wasn't necessary nor expected, but Vincent knew his friend well enough to know why Pascal wanted to talk to him at such a late hour. On the other hand, it would probably be a good idea for the two to meet. After all, they would be sharing the same home for the next two days.

"As you wish," Vincent replied and tapped out the message to Pascal.

"So, where's the pipe chamber? On second thought, what is a pipe chamber? And who's Pascal?" Kat smiled as she asked her questions.

After all, cats were curious.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: Sorry about the short chapter but so many of you have insisted upon me updating, so here is a "teaser" if you will. **DancingWeretigress**, thank you for your review. I am planning on introducing a villian, but it won't be for a little bit yet. Vincent and Katrina need to make it through the full moon first. **Lydja-chan** and **dog youkai jane**, thank you for your reviews and I will strive to update more frequently._

_Also, I don't know how old Vincent is supposed to be. Some have supposed early thirties and some have supposed late thirties. I figure it doesn't really matter but any woman would be curious about the age of her lover, which is why Katrina asks._

* * *

"That's her?" Pascal whispered incredulously. "That's the woman that Father said is dangerous? She's practically a child!"

Vincent's mouth twitched, allowing a small smile. "That's her."

The trip to the pipe chamber had gone by quickly as Katrina was fascinated by the pipe language and continued listening even though she didn't understand it.

Pascal's jaw had dropped the moment the two had entered the chamber – obviously Katrina wasn't what he'd expected – and Vincent was torn between laughing at his friend's expression or at Katrina's, whose face had broke into a huge grin when she saw the network of pipes.

As Katrina gazed in awe at more pipes than she'd ever seen in her life – some big, some small, some silver-colored, some copper – she chuckled at the men "whispering" on the other side of the chamber. Since she'd been bit, her hearing – among other things – had become more acute. Kat realized that she could hear Vincent and Pascal talking to each other across the room as plainly as if they were at her side.

"_She_ can hear you, you know." Kat turned her head, letting her long blond hair fall over her shoulder, and glanced at the men. Pascal looked positively mortified and Kat had to suppress a laugh. But as she glanced Vincent's way, her laugh caught in her throat. His beautiful blue eyes were looking into her soul and she felt his … was _attraction_ the right word? _Desire_ was too strong and _friendship_ wasn't nearly strong enough. Kat turned her head again and flipped her hair over her shoulder in a move she'd seen models do in shampoo commercials. All her senses were tuned to Vincent and she could easily hear his sharp intake of breath and feel his desire growing.

It made her feel sexy and desirable and a euphoric feeling swept over her. She _could_ be happy here with Vincent. Not here in the pipe chamber, but here Below. Kat wanted that, more than anything. She wanted to feel safe and at home and wanted and … dare she even think it … _loved_.

Unfortunately, to quote Vincent's earlier words, it could not be. After the Change, she would have to leave the Tunnels.

She would have to leave Vincent.

As much as that hurt her, Kat had a feeling that it would hurt Vincent more. He'd already had at least one woman leave him (though, in dying, Catherine really hadn't had any choice in the matter).

Tears began to pool in her eyes, tears of the loss they would both share in a couple of nights, tears shed for the chance they never had, and Kat glanced again at Vincent. He and Pascal were speaking quietly – Kat resisted the urge to eavesdrop – and, though Vincent's mouth was smiling, his eyes were not. He looked at her in concern and both he and Pascal made their way over to her.

Fortunately, Kat was able to get her emotions under control by the time the two men approached, though Vincent still looked concerned, and her smile to Pascal was genuine.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Pascal," Kat said as they shook hands. He hadn't hesitated at all in touching her but somehow she got the feeling that there was more to this meeting than she could see. Thinking back on what she had heard earlier, perhaps Pascal had believed whoever Father was and had not approved of a dangerous monster being Below.

"It's nice to meet you. You're not at all what I expected."

Kat laughed and looked at Vincent. "See, this is what I like about this place: everyone's so honest. Up there, all anyone ever does is lie."

The statement had started as a joke and a compliment to the Tunnel dwellers' way of life, but an uncomfortable silence followed as all three people were thinking about how Katrina _couldn't_ stay Below. Pascal felt guilty for being one of the people to judge her without even meeting her. Vincent felt a deeper regret than he'd expected to. And Katrina felt strangely resigned to her fate. She couldn't live here and she was wanted for assault Above. Kat supposed she would just have to live her life on the run, never calling anyplace Home.

Boy, that was a depressing thought.

"Vincent and I are on our way to the kitchen for a late supper. Care to join us, Pascal?" Kat said, struggling to think happier thoughts. Like food. Food was always good. Kat was _always_ hungry.

"I think I might," Pascal said and the trio made their way down the tunnels to the promise of food and friendship.

~ * ~ * ~

"… So then the cook says to the pirate, 'Have another leg, man!'"

William's deep voice boomed throughout the kitchen as he laughed at his joke and Kat couldn't help doubling over.

"Get it?" William said. "He's a one-legged pirate!"

"I got it!" Kat laughed, barely able to get enough oxygen for even such a simple statement.

Pascal and Vincent must have heard the joke before because Kat couldn't fathom why they weren't laughing harder.

The moment they'd invaded the kitchen, William had embraced her in what could only be dubbed as a bear hug. The man was huge! A bit taller than Kat and round due to sampling his culinary masterpieces, William's personality mirrored his physique perfectly. He was a loud man, never hesitating to say _exactly_ what was on his mind. He'd already embarrassed Pascal by mentioning Pascal reluctance to have Kat Below, but a hearty slap on the back told everyone that William was not one to hold grudges against the other Tunnel dwellers.

As Kat got her breathing under control, she reached for another piece of chicken. They weren't "chicken nuggets" in the strictest sense of the word, more like small pieces of bite-sized chicken that one could dunk in the ketchup, barbeque, or teriyaki sauces.

"I like this one," William told Vincent in a stage-whisper. "She's got a hearty appetite and great sense of humor."

"If I hadn't have already heard the joke, my friend, I might be as affected as she," Vincent replied.

Kat smiled and observed her company. She was laughing and joking with three men deep below New York City in a kitchen that looked like something out of a Flintstones cartoon.

She would miss this. Probably even more than she missed home.

Kat frowned and averted her face, hoping her hair would shield her drastic mood change.

Her hair hid her face but her posture spoke volumes.

"What's wrong, Katrina?" Vincent asked.

And _he_ could feel her emotions. Was _nothing_ a secret?

"Nothing, just thinking."

"About what, girl?" William asked. "You don't have to say if you don't want, but sometimes talking helps."

Kat thought about it. Nothing was a secret here because they had conversations over the pipes. And, Kat reflected, that was why they were all so close. They all knew everything about one another and supported each other in every way possible. They would have to; it would be the only way to survive the way they did.

And, even though Kat was leaving in a few nights, she wanted to feel like she belonged here.

"About my family."

"Will they be missin' ya?" William asked.

Kat laughed bitterly. "No. They kicked me out. When they found out what happened to me, my father yelled a lot, my mother cried, and my older brother called me a freak. Even my fiancé told me that 'perhaps marriage isn't such a good idea'."

A silent tear trailed down her cheek.

"My fiancé! We were going to be married and spend our lives together, for better and worse and all that stuff and at the first rough patch he calls it off!"

Kat was angry now and so tired of the whole thing and just so glad to be able to actually _talk_ to people who actually _cared_ what happened to her.

"Men are such dogs!"

Three pairs of eyebrows shot up – after all, what does a man say to that? – and William stifled a laugh.

"William, that's not funny," Pascal chastised.

"No, it's not, but among the present company," he made a vague gesture toward Vincent, "it's kind of humorous."

"Men are dogs," Kat repeated, looking up at Vincent, "except when they're cats."

William howled with laughter and Pascal looked positively mortified, but Vincent gave Kat a small smile showing he held no offense.

"Perhaps it is time to retire," Vincent said, "before Pascal has a heart attack."

Glancing at Pascal, who hadn't recovered and whose mouth was hanging quite open, Kat laughed. "Good idea."

Though her stomach was full, she grabbed two more pieces of chicken before waving to William and Pascal and leaving the kitchen with Vincent.

The two walked a ways in companionable silence before Vincent asked quietly, "Are you sated?"

Kat patted her belly with one hand and licked the fingers of her other. "Very. I'm so full! I'd forgotten what eating actual food felt like!"

The corner of Vincent's mouth turned up. "That's not what I was referring to."

"Wha- Oh. That. Um, I'm fine," Kat muttered, blushing crimson.

"I can feel the desire growing. It's stronger and is happening more often than last month. One time will not be able to satisfy you this month."

"I know. Look, can we not talk about this. I'm fine for now."

Vincent stopped walking and turned to her. "We need to talk about this. I promised Father that I would help you control yourself. I cannot do that if you refuse my help."

"I'm not _refusing_ your help, just _postponing_ it. I don't need "it" right now. I need to go to bed and sleep. Where's my room?"

Vincent continued walking. "You'll be sleeping in my chamber for the duration of your stay."

"I'll be … do you think that's a good idea?"

"It will be easier for you to find me when you need me."

Kat bit her lip. "But won't everyone else know what we're doing?"

Vincent shrugged, a physical act to prove nonchalance when she could feel his emotion unease, and said, "Father already knows and does not approve. I know my friends will not approve but there are no secrets here. Sooner or later, they will know. Besides, I am a grown man."

"Yeah, speaking of which, how old are you, exactly?"

Vincent stopped once again. "You are 24 years of age, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Then you do not want to know my age." He continued walking.

Kat followed. "Just tell me there's not more than ten years between us."

Vincent said nothing to neither confirm nor deny.

"You're right. I don't want to know. Ignorance is bliss, right? Right."


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you **DancingWeretigress**, **Lydja-chan**, and **Captain Fish** for not only reviewing my latest chapter, but reviewing **immediately** after posting. Makes me feel like you all are waiting with baited breath for the next installment of Full Moon Lust. Thank you guys!_

_Also, I would like to thank **darknekogirl16**, **MrsPhantomSylvia**, **dog youkai jane**, **Jazminblu**, **kierena**, and **kurounue13 **for adding my story to your favorite stories list. I'm truly honored._

_I hope you enjoy the further adventures of Vincent and Katrina. And for those of you waiting for them to stop "mating" and start "making love", don't worry. It's coming!_

_~ GetItOuttaMySystem ~_

* * *

She was going to kill him.

Kat had decided that Vincent didn't deserve to live if he could sleep while she was being tortured. As the minutes dragged on, feeling more and more like a lifetime had passed, Kat watched Vincent sleep and plotted how she might kill him.

And she would too.

How could he _sleep_?

_Killing him is irrational_, she chided herself. _After all, he can't mate if he's dead._

And she desperately needed _that_ part of his anatomy. Inside her. Right now.

_Stop thinking about it and let the man sleep!_

She pulled her knees closer to her chest, the pulsing between her thighs growing ever stronger. Kat had been sleeping on the other side of Vincent's massive bed, but was now sitting on the floor across the room, attempting to put as much distance between her and Vincent as physically possible. Vincent had given her one of his night shirts to sleep in, an enormous white gown that went to Vincent's knees and Katrina's toes. She'd rolled the sleeves up and the shirt hung off her shoulder, but it smelled of Vincent and Kat loved it.

_Had_ loved it … until it became an instrument of torture.

Seventeen minutes ago – the longest seventeen minutes of Kat's life – Kat awoke feeling overheated. Her veins were on fire, she'd started to sweat, and the area between her thighs hurt with a very distinctive ache.

She needed sex.

But Vincent was asleep.

A crime punishable by death, in Kat's opinion.

Couldn't he _feel_ her emotions? Couldn't he _feel_ her turmoil?

Why the hell wasn't he awake yet?

Vincent moved on the bed, tossing and turning yet again. Kat wondered if this was proof that, subconsciously, he was affected by her emotions. But Jacob remained fast asleep, which suggested that Vincent often moved during the night.

Vincent settled once more, facing towards Kat for the first time all night. His nostrils flared … and his eyes shot open.

"Katrina!" His voice was raspy with sleep, but his deep timbre caused more heat to pool between Kat's thighs. Oh, she was so wet!

"Hey," she muttered.

"Why didn't you wake me?" His eyes were dark with lust as he rose from the bed and made his way to her.

"Because you were sleeping and this is ridiculous." Kat swiped at an errant tear. She hadn't known she was crying. "I shouldn't need it again. Not so soon."

He knelt next to her and Kat could smell his own desire. His scent only heightened her own arousal, a feat she hadn't thought possible.

Vincent glanced once to the bed, where Jacob slept completely oblivious to his roommate's discomfort, then took Kat's hand.

"Come," he said, and Kat wanted to tell him not to say words like that at a time like this.

They went into the bathing chamber connected to Vincent's chamber. Immediately, Vincent grabbed Katrina's shirt and pulled it over her head. She grabbed his shirt too, but no amount of tugging on her part would remove the offending article of clothing and Vincent finished the job himself.

Then she was against the wall and he was lifting her. He plunged into her in one quick thrust and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He thrust into her harder and faster than their previous matings, the sense of urgency blinding everything else.

"More … oh, more …" Katrina moaned, wanting to give to him as well but seemingly unable to do anything but hold on.

Deeper. Harder. Faster. Vincent could barely think, was barely able to support them both. A basic instinct seemed to have taken over. There were no gentle touches, like before. No murmured words of affection, like before. Only need. Only passion.

The growl started in his chest as he neared his climax, but Katrina's moans drowned out the sound. He wanted to kiss her to keep her quiet, but instead found himself licking her neck, tasting her sweat as he plunged into her again and again.

She cried out as she climaxed, her muscles clamping down on him, drawing him further into her body and he roared his release. Their cries echoed in the chamber and Vincent heard Jacob start to cry in the other room. Neither one of them moved for a moment, as they listened to their heartbeats slow, but finally Vincent pulled out of Kat and stepped back.

"I'll be right back," Vincent said.

Automatically, Katrina nodded and Vincent left the bathing chamber, still nude.

And Kat sank to the floor and wept.

~ * ~ * ~

Vincent heard Katrina's sobs the moment he left the bathing chamber, but still went to comfort his son first. The boy quickly went back to sleep, after his father assured him that the noise he'd heard was nothing to worry about. While little Jacob didn't speak, he seemed to understand what Vincent was saying.

He entered the bathing chamber again and knelt next to Katrina. Her body shook with sobs and he paused only a moment before pulling her towards him. She collapsed into his chest, her tears wetting his fur. She ran her fingers through the fur on his chest, as if seeking to hold him closer.

Vincent's heart somersaulted. How often had he desired this? To have his differences be overlooked, or – better yet – accepted. Catherine had accepted him, but he had been too afraid to take their relationship to the next level.

Now, he had Katrina here, a woman who accepted him in a way he didn't even understand, because they could relate to each other in a way that almost scared him.

Their animal sides called to one another.

No, their animal sides _screamed_ for each other.

And after a round of mating, that Vincent had thought was mind-blowing, Katrina was sobbing.

Why?

Perhaps he'd misread the signals. Perhaps the sex hadn't been as good for her as it was for him. Perhaps it had something to do with his appearance …

"I'm sorry," Kat sobbed. She attempted to get her breathing under control, but her words still came out broken. "Crying after a-a-amazing sex probably d-d-doesn't send the r-r-right message."

Unwilling to admit that he was trying to pick up the broken pieces of his heart, Vincent merely replied, "I'm just confused, that's all. I gave you pleasure, yes?"

"Oh, yes!" Silent tears continued to make their way down her cheeks, but Kat's sobs had stopped. "Yes, Vincent, you gave me lots of pleasure. I'm crying because I don't deserve you."

Vincent opened his mouth to reply, but Kat held up a hand. "It's true," she said. "Before you woke up, I was so mad at you for not instinctively knowing that I needed you. But, before we went to bed, you offered yourself to me. It was my stupid pride that caused me to wait so long. I'm sorry to have blamed you."

"Katrina, I cannot help you if you won't let me." Vincent used his thumb to brush away her tears. "You cannot wait so long next time. Because I feel your emotions, when your desire grows, so does my own. If we do not slake our lust before it becomes unmanageable, I am liable to become a danger to those around me."

Kat thought about his words. This time, she'd waited until the lust was too much for her to handle and hadn't thought about the effect it would have on Vincent. He'd mated with her rough and almost – dare she think it – animalistic. But what if someone had stood between him and his mate?

"I'm sorry. I didn't think about that at all. I've been pretty selfish."

Vincent noticed that she was running her fingers through his chest fur still. Did she know what she was doing? Could she even comprehend what such a simple action meant to him? Probably not.

"Not selfish, just unaware. For the rest of today and tomorrow, we'll just have to keep the full moon lust under control."

Katrina nodded. "Should we come up with some sort of code word to use that really means 'Hey, we should get a room'?" She laughed a little, attempting to get back in her usual jovial mood.

Vincent was grateful for her swift mood change. Her tears had torn at his heart in a way that he'd never experienced before, even with Catherine.

_Stop comparing them!_ Vincent chastised himself.

"There should be no need for code words," Vincent said. "We can feel the other's desire. When it comes upon us, we shall meet in my chamber."

"Okay." Katrina stopped running her fingers through the hair on his chest, as if she just now realized what she'd been doing. A pang of fear went through Vincent as he waited to feel her revulsion through the Bond.

It never came.

Instead, a feeling of pleasure rushed through the Bond. At first, the emotion was difficult to identify, as it wasn't as strong as the pleasure Kat experienced during mating, but the two feelings were immensely similar.

"I like your fur."

Four words. Vincent had always assumed that when one's world was completely and irrevocably thrown off balance, it would take much more than four words. And yet, Katrina had just now forever ruined him for other women.

She liked his fur.

Still staring at his chest, she began to run her fingers through the fur again. "I'm sorry for drawing attention to your differences, but I had to tell you."

She raised her head, staring into his cerulean eyes. He gazed into her hazel eyes and saw no malicious intent of any kind. No lies, no trickery, just honest opinion.

"I am not accustomed to having my body displayed, nor having my differences praised. I am unsure what to say."

Kat smiled. "If it makes you feel any better, you can say something that you like about me."

Vincent raked his gaze over her nude body. Where does one begin praising such beauty? He longed to lick her breasts, cause her nipples to harden, but the lust was not upon her just now and any more thoughts in that direction would cause him to seriously embarrass himself. Instead, he settled on his favorite feature of hers.

"Your eyes are beautiful. They captivate me, drawing me in until I can bask in the glow of your soul."

Katrina's skin flushed in embarrassment. As she lowered her head demurely, it was hard to believe they were still sitting there, naked, after having mated most passionately.

"Thank you for the compliment."

"Thank you for not flinching when you touch me."

Kat's head came up so fast he thought she might get whiplash. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, as if the words she wanted to say were lodged somewhere in her throat. Finally, the words came.

"I will _never_ shy away from your touch. I will _always_ welcome it."

And in Kat's heart, she prayed that the emotion she saw shining through Vincent's eyes at that moment was love. Because she was quite sure that's what he'd see in her eyes.

~ * ~ * ~

"So, what are you doing today?" Kat shrugged into her vest. She and Vincent had showered separately and were now getting ready for the day. Kat had no idea what lay in store for her during her first full day Below and was, therefore, curious what Vincent's plans were.

Vincent attempted to get little Jacob's shoes on. It was a daily chore, his claws more often than not getting in the way, and Jacob seemed to hate them anyway. Even when Vincent _could_ get the tiny things on his son's feet, Jacob would kick them off later. "I'm working in the lower tunnels today. Some of the men and I are carving out new chambers. A few of the families have expanded are need to relocate."

The shoes were _not_ going on today. Jacob would just have to go without, which was probably fine with the toddler anyway.

Kat watched as Vincent put away Jacob's shoes. She'd wanted to intervene, to insist on putting the shoes on the little boy herself, but that wasn't her responsibility. As much as she wanted to belong Below, she was an outsider.

And she was leaving in two days anyway.

"What am I going to do today?" Kat asked Vincent.

Vincent shrugged. "There's always something to be done. I'm sure we'll find something to keep your mind occupied."

Nodding, Kat smiled down at little Jacob, who was making his way barefoot towards her.

"Well, hello little one," she said, smiling when Jacob grinned. "Shall we have a race? Last one to the dining hall is a rotten egg!" Little Jacob clapped his hands together and started running after Kat, who threw the chamber curtain aside …

… And completely plowed into an old man with a cane.

"Oh!"

"Confound it!"

"Father!"

Kat attempted to disentangle herself from her poor victim and scurried quickly behind Vincent. _Stupid, so stupid!_ She should've looked where she was going.

"Good grief!" The man exclaimed again. "Young lady," he looked around Vincent to chastise Kat, "one does not run down tunnels without looking to make certain they are clear of any passersby."

"Of course, sir," Kat said, blushing eight shades of red.

"Vincent, would you like to introduce me to our guest?"

"Father, this is Katrina. Katrina, this is Jacob Wells, my father and the founder of our world here Below."

_Founder. Great! Could there BE a worse person to run into?_

"Pleased to meet you, Katrina."

"A pleasure, Mr. Wells."

"Please, call me Father. Everyone does."

It occurred to Katrina that, while the introductions were nothing if not pleasant, Father was the person in charge of whether she stayed Below.

And it had already been determined that she _wasn't_ staying.

The silence between the three adults was palpable.

"Well," Father attempted to break the tension. "After breakfast, Vincent, I believe you are working in the lower tunnels today, yes?"

Vincent nodded.

"Then, Katrina, we say have to find something for you to do. We all contribute here Below and, though your visit is brief, the same will be expected of you."

Kat bristled a bit at Father insinuating that she would accept their charity without some form of payment, but nodded nonetheless.

"Good. Well, that's settled. I shall see you in the dining hall then? May I take Jacob with me, now?"

Vincent handed the boy to his parent and the two made their way slowly down the tunnel.

Kat waited until they'd rounded a bend and then slouched. "He hates me."

"No, of course not," Vincent protested, "He just –"

"If you say, 'He just doesn't know you', I may have to hurt you."

Vincent's mouth quirked up into a smile. "Well, you have two days to change his opinion of you."

Kat smiled again. "I've never been one to back down from a challenge."

Vincent motioned toward the tunnel. "Shall we go to breakfast?"

"I thought you'd never ask. I'm _starved_!"

"That seems to be a common state of being for you," Vincent joked as they made their way toward the smell of bacon and eggs.


	9. Chapter 9

About three-point-seven seconds after breakfast, Kat had determined that, one, Father did indeed hate her, and two, he was very adept at sentencing torture to another human being.

After all, that was the only explanation for Kat's current chore: washing the laundry.

It was true that Kat never backed down from a challenge, and really, she'd washed laundry before at home.

In a machine. With minimal effort on her part to get the job accomplished.

And, to top it all off, the women she was working with had absolutely _nothing_ in common with Katrina.

After a brief question-and-answer time, where Katrina found out about Below and how it was founded and the women found out about Kat and how she came Below, the other women stuck to their own conversation and Kat was left horribly out of the loop. From what Kat could deduce, the other women were all mothers of small children, each relating stories about her husband, or how her toddler was already reading, or how her baby was teething.

Conversations that Kat was unable to participate in, but which left her wondering about the future.

Could there be a husband for her? Her own fiancé had been repulsed after she'd turned into a werelion.

Could she even _have_ children? Oh, that would be a cruel trick of Fate: to cause her to go into heat every month only to make childbearing impossible.

Oh, hell, she had to get out of here! She had to find something to do that would keep her mind occupied, otherwise she'd go crazy with wondering over the possibilities.

Excusing herself to use the bathroom, Kat left the chamber and walked until she came to a bend, and the washing chamber was out of sight. Then, she ran, down tunnels and around bends in order to escape the questions in her mind.

Somehow, she ended up in the kitchen. Kat didn't recall ever making a conscious decision to go there, but upon arriving, she knew that this was where she belonged.

"Heavens, girl, you look like the devil himself were on your heels!"

William's deep voice soothed her heart. She knew she was shaking, her breath coming in pants not at all related to her recent run, but she knew he would protect her. Keep her safe. Even from her own thoughts.

"Just needed a change of scenery, William."

William's eyebrow rose, then he motioned her into the kitchen. "Heard you were on laundry duty today, but that's not really your style, is it?"

He knew. Somehow, William knew that Kat was running from what the women in the laundry chamber represented, not running from the chore itself.

"I guess not," she replied lamely.

William nodded his head solemnly, and then his mouth broke into a grin.

"Let's see if we can find something a bit more up your alley."

~ * ~ * ~

Manual labor was good for two things, Vincent figured.

One: It allowed a person to work up a sweat and exercise muscles perhaps not normally used in everyday life.

Two: It afforded an enormous amount of thinking time.

He and some of the other men had been working in the lower tunnels for hours. Mouse had discovered that some of these tunnels ran incredibly close to an underground river that no one else knew about. Mouse had gone to Vincent's chamber yesterday to tell him about it, only Vincent had been busy with Katrina at the time.

And so, the tunneling job had needed to be reconsidered and altered. Afterwards, when his brain was no longer required for calculating measurements, Vincent started thinking of other things.

Like Katrina.

Earlier in the day, he'd felt an enormous amount of panic and fear come through the Bond. But then she relaxed and pretty soon he could feel laughter and joy coming from her. His mouth quirked up on one side. She wasn't in the laundry chamber anymore, that was for certain. In fact, based on the amount of good feelings coming through the Bond, Vincent would bet that she'd made her way to William's kitchen and was helping him create a culinary masterpiece for dinner.

The more Vincent thought about Katrina, the more he feared he was becoming attracted to her in a way that would only bring pain. She wasn't permitted to stay Below. She was going to leave him.

And yet, all Vincent could think about was her laughter.

Her beautiful smile.

Her gorgeous eyes.

Her wavy hair.

And the fact that he really wanted to make love to her properly. Not up against the bathing chamber wall like this morning.

Good God, what _had_ he been thinking?

_Make love_. His mind had started thinking about it like that hours ago. Not _mating_. _Making love_.

Oh, he was doomed.

"Penny for your thoughts, Vincent," said James, smirking knowingly.

Topher laughed. "Aw, his thoughts are written right on his face. He's thinking of the girl."

Vincent was glad that his skin tone and fur covered up his blush. "How do you justify that reasoning?"

"Because a girl came Below yesterday just to see you and ended up staying in your chamber," Topher said.

Vincent's eyes grew wide. He'd known there would be talk, but he'd never expected to actually be confronted with it.

James was eager to step in. "Vincent, we're not judging. In fact, Toph and I are just two in the large group of people here Below who are rejoicing that you've finally got someone to be with, even if it is only for a couple of days."

"Which is why," Topher added, "that we believe you should be with her right now, instead of shoveling rock with us."

Vincent could hardly breathe. In the past, he'd wondered what the community Below thought of his son and how that son came to be, but he'd never heard any gossip on that front. Now, Katrina had come Below, effectively changing his world, and his friends were blatantly cheering for him.

"When did this decision come about?" he asked.

Topher smiled. "About five minutes ago, when you got a moony smile on your face!"

"You're a man," James added. "Go see to your woman."


	10. Chapter 10

"I should _never_ have taught you how to do that!" William laughed.

"But it's so much fun!" Kat retorted as she tossed the pizza dough into the air again and deftly caught it.

William shook his head. "I must admit that you're better at that than most people. Why, I once had Mouse in here helping and … well, let's just say that I didn't know pizza dough could stick to the ceiling like that!"

Kat laughed some more, glancing up to the ceiling as she did, just to see if the famed pizza was still there. It wasn't.

"What's Mouse's story anyway?" she asked.

William spread some sauce on his dough and started to sprinkle some cheese. "The story is that we don't really know the story. Vincent found Mouse down here, lurking in Tunnels that were uninhabited." He laughed. "Stuff would go missing, other things would be moved to different spots than they'd been placed. If my great-grandma'd been here, she would've said it was the fair folk."

Kat smiled, imagining a puzzled expression on Vincent's face as he noticed his novel was no longer on the table, but was now on the bed.

"Vincent finally caught the boy. He didn't know how to speak – we're not sure if he'd ever been taught – so Vincent taught him. Took him under his wing, Vincent did. Taught him to read and write, taught him to bathe and dress. Even had to teach him right from wrong." William chuckled. "Sometimes we find ourselves still teaching him right from wrong. Mouse likes to create grey areas in order to get away with stuff."

Kat knew a lot about grey areas. She's been raised to keep herself pure for her husband and now she was having sex with a man who wasn't married to her. A man who was still grieving for his dead lover and might not ever marry her.

Where had that thought come from? Marriage? She'd been engaged only a few months back, before she'd been turned. She shouldn't be thinking about marriage to another man so quickly.

But she found herself envisioning a future with Vincent, here in the Tunnels. A future with his son and – dare she hope – other children.

A feeling of contentment washed over her as Katrina realized that she could be very happy here, if only she were allowed to stay.

"A penny for your thoughts, Katrina."

The deep rumbling voice came from the doorway and washed over Kat like a caress. Though the lust wasn't burning in her veins, she was instantly aroused. She turned to find Vincent smiling at her.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

Vincent tilted his head slightly, an acknowledgment that she'd avoided his question, but he didn't pursue it. "Why would you be in trouble?"

"Because I'm not doing laundry like Father instructed."

Vincent smiled again. It was true that Father had not been happy when he'd learned that _the girl_, as Father had begun to call her, had disobeyed. Mary, however, quickly diffused the situation by commenting that she was pleased Katrina had found an occupation better suited to her personality.

Father had grumbled something about _the girl_ not being allowed to wander the Tunnels freely, but in the end had not ordered her to be reprimanded.

"Mary is pleased you were able to find something you liked."

It was Katrina's turn to tilt her head in acknowledgment that he'd deflected, but she didn't pursue it.

William cut in. "What brings you to the kitchen, Vincent?"

Embarrassment flooded into her through the Bond and she watched as Vincent's cheeks turned slightly darker. She doubted William noticed, though; Vincent's coloring and fur did wonders for masking emotion.

"I wondered if I might steal your new apprentice for a while. There are some things I would like to show her."

_I'll bet there are_, William thought with a smile. If the gossips were to be believed – and just about anyone Below with news about anyone else Below was a gossip – then Vincent and Katrina'd been having some passionate sex in his chambers. Instead of embarrassing them, however, William just nodded and shooed her to the doorway. "Of course, I won't know what to do with myself when she's gone, but I think I'll make do." He winked at Katrina. "Have fun, girl."

Katrina blushed, wondering if he'd meant that the way she _thought_ he'd meant that.

* * *

For the first time in a very, very long time, Katrina'd been rendered speechless. The cavern that Vincent had led her to was huge, with an immense waterfall cascading into a pool the size of a small lake. The beauty made her breathe catch, but what made her incapable of speech was the blanket that had been laid out, with two candles creating a soft glow and lighting up plates of delectable finger foods.

Vincent, though he felt her pleasure through the Bond, still felt obligated to give her an out. "I thought that we might dine together and _be_ together before the lust takes control." When Kat said nothing, Vincent pressed on nervously. "I thought it might help keep the lust at bay, but if you don't want to -"

"No!" Kat blurted, then shook her head. "I mean, yes, I _do_ want to. Please don't take this away. This is the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me."

Vincent smiled at that and Kat blushed. She felt strangely awkward. They'd just agreed to make love, but without her body controlled by the full moon lust, Kat wasn't really sure how to start.

Fortunately, Vincent gestured to the blanket. "Shall we sit?"

Kat nodded and sat down. Vincent shrugged out of his cloak, setting it on a nearby rock, and sat down next to her.

She tentatively reached for a strawberry, not certain if she should say anything. Vincent reached for a cracker with meat and cheese piled on top, but he didn't break the silence. Kat tried to feel what he was feeling through the Bond, but all she felt was a strange mix of contentment and nervousness. Was he as nervous as she?

Vincent picked up a strawberry and held it in front of Kat's lips. She bit it in half and watched as he finished it. Green eyes met blue and she could see the desire in his eyes. And something else. Hope? She realized that this would be the first time either of them had _made love_. After all, he'd confessed to being under the madness when with Catherine, and every time he and Kat had sex, it was controlled by the lust.

He leaned down and Kat pressed her lips to his. The kiss was hesitant, at first, and then they slowly opened their mouths to discover the taste of the other. His tongue plunged inside, tasting the strawberry as well as something else that tasted like sunshine and light and was distinctly Katrina. Her tongue danced with his, tasting strawberry and something else wild and fierce. Her tongue darted across his large canines, and Kat knew that she _should_ be afraid of his strength, but she wasn't. He leaned her back, until Kat was lying on the blanket and Vincent was on top of her. He hesitated a moment and leaned over to blow out the two candles.

"Afraid we'll start a fire?" Kat's voice was husky to her own ears.

"We've already started one." Vincent pressed his groin into the area between her legs and Kat felt his arousal.

They were wearing far too many clothes, but when she moved to take off her shirt, Vincent's hands covered hers. "Please, allow me."

Her vest was tugged off and her sweatshirt quickly followed. There was a thin shirt still left, which left nothing to the imagination, and Vincent stopped for a moment to stare. Her nipples peaked under his gaze, warm as a caress, and she wiggled beneath him, itching for him to do something.

He didn't disappoint. His rough, furred hands came up to cup and knead her breasts, the balls of his clawed fingers he used to brush across her straining nipples. Kat gasped and arched into his hands, begging him to keep touching her. He pulled the shirt over her head, baring her breasts to him. His gaze traveled across the bare half of her body greedily, drinking in her full breasts, her flat stomach, her neck and the area where her neck met her shoulders. He kissed her there for a moment, licking her skin, and then moved lower, kissing and licking until her reached her breasts and began sucking and nipping at them.

Kat's hands flew to his hair. She'd been clenching the blanket, but gave up that hold for the silky mane. She tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him closer, begging him to suckle her like a baby would.

"Oh my -" Kat would've liked to say more, wished she could encourage him with words, but instead could only moan her satisfaction. He left her breasts briefly to pull his own vest and shirt off, then he returned to his licking. He gently nipped at her breasts, conscious of his fangs but even more aware of Kat's increased moans. He accessed the Bond and felt only pleasure from her. No fear, no worries about his teeth marring her perfect body, only pleasure and a desire for him to continue.

Kat moved her hands to Vincent's back, stroking the soft fur in the same rhythm as his tongue lavishing her skin. His mouth moved lower, dipping into her bellybutton and causing Kat to laugh as his fur tickled the tender skin of her lower belly.

He moved down her body, straightening only to unbutton her patched-up jeans and pull them off her body. Vincent hesitated. He wanted to lick the area between her legs so badly, wanted to taste her arousal, but he didn't want to scare her. Perhaps he could just smell her and then focus his attentions elsewhere. He leaned toward her most private place and breathed in deep. Oh, she smelled of heaven!

"Please," Kat pleaded.

Vincent looked up, meeting her eyes. What was she asking for? Surely she wasn't asking for what he most wanted to do, was she?

"It's okay," she said. "I want you to."

Still hesitant, Vincent leaned forward again and gave her folds a tiny lick.

Katrina reaction was immediate and positive. She moaned and thrust her hips toward him. "More, please," she begged.

He felt nothing but pleasure pulsing through the Bond, so Vincent continued. Oh, he loved tasting her! She tasted like everything good and pure in the world and he wanted to go on licking her, but he felt that she was too close to climaxing. He wanted to be inside her when she exploded with pleasure.

Vincent was pretty close to exploding himself. His manhood was straining against his jeans, so painful he thought he might die. He pulled away from her for just a moment to yank off his jeans.

Kat's creamy skin was flushed with pleasure as he watched her watching him. She looked so at home, sprawled out on the blanket, her hair fanned out around her shoulders, waiting for her lover to come back to her arms.

_Her lover?_ Oh, hell, she'd been thinking of him as a lover and a potential husband for the past hour. Why stop now, in the throes of passion?

Vincent covered her with his body and entered her slowly, allowing her tight sheath time to accommodate him. He paused when he'd entered her completely.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

Kat blinked. "How can you even ask that? I feel how good you feel. Can't you feel my pleasure?" She put her hand on his cheek and forced him to look into her eyes. She rubbed her nose against his and nuzzled his cheek. "This is how it's supposed to be, isn't it?"

"I believe so," Vincent said, pulling away ever so slightly and then thrusting back. "I feel complete."

"At home," Kat supplied, meeting his next slow thrust with her hips.

"Yes, as if right now, the world is as it should be."

Kat smiled coyly, wrapping her legs around his hips. "It is."

The thrusts were slow and the kisses tender. Kat felt like they made love for hours. As the pleasure built, Vincent's thrusts quickened, only to slow down before they climaxed. He did this two or three times before Kat begged for release.

Vincent sped up his thrusts, feeling the pleasure building in Kat until finally he brought her to heaven. Kat yelled his name as Vincent roared, emptying his seed into her and then collapsing on top of his lover.

When his breathing returned to normal and Vincent was finally able to create actual thoughts, he moved to get off of Kat.

"No, don't," she moaned. "I like how you feel inside me."

"I'm crushing you," Vincent protested, not wanting to admit that he liked being inside her.

"Doesn't matter," Kat mumbled, licking his cheek in a very animalistic form of showing affection.

Vincent gathered Kat close to his body and then rolled them over. She sprawled on his chest, clenching her muscles around him as if to make sure he was still inside.

His breathing hitched and he reached to cup her bottom. "If you keep doing that," he mumbled huskily, "I won't be held responsible for my actions."

Kat yawned, running her fingers through the fur on his chest, making invisible patterns that only she could see. "I like it when you're not so responsible. It feels good here," she placed her hand over his heart. She yawned again. "Maybe just a tiny nap, then we can do it again?"


End file.
